


Already Gone

by KelseyO



Category: Glee
Genre: Anger, Angst, F/F, Friendship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelseyO/pseuds/KelseyO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'It's okay,' she says softly, 'I won't,' and it's the biggest lie she's ever told, because it's not okay and she's not okay and this wedding is not okay. Nothing is okay." Takes place directly after the bridesmaids scene. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Already Gone

"It's okay," she says softly, "I won't," and it's the biggest lie she's ever told, because it's not okay and she's not okay and this wedding is not okay.

 _Nothing_ is okay.

She makes it across the room and out the door with practiced Fabray composure, and she even manages not to slam it shut (because then everyone would _know_ ), but her hands are shaking as she fumbles with her keys and unlocks her car.

And then she climbs into the driver's seat, and everything is quiet and still, and she's _alone_ , and she crumbles. It's like wetting a paper towel, the way she caves in on herself, drooping against the steering wheel while her shoulders shake and her sobs bounce off the metal and glass and leather.

She can't believe this. Rachel always sees through her bullshit—the icy façade, the pink hair, the short-lived baby-stealing craziness—so why can't she see through her own? How is the stupidity of Quinn's choices so blatant and obvious to Rachel, but when it comes to her own life, she acts like she's in a fucking Disney movie?

"Fuck you," she whispers through gritted teeth. She bangs her fist against the steering wheel. "Fuck you, fuck you, _fuck you_ ," she repeats over and over, because Rachel is going to marry a selfish loser with an IQ lower than the speed limit on this street, and there's absolutely nothing she can do about it.

The passenger side door opens and she wonders if it's Rachel, if she's realized the horrible mistake she's making and she's come to apologize to Quinn for being such a moron, but she looks up with soggy eyes and sees Santana sitting next to her, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Hey, Q," she murmurs, rubbing Quinn's back gently.

"It's _bullshit_ ," Quinn snaps, punching the steering wheel again and then squeezing it like she's holding on for dear life.

"I know."

Quinn's lungs are heaving and every muscle in her body is tense, coiled, ready for she doesn't know what. "She's so _stupid_."

"I know."

She straightens and turns to Santana. "Then why didn't you _help_ me in there?" she shouts through the lump in her throat, "Why didn't you tell her—why didn't you—just—" The words disappear and she hangs her head, crying into her palm now, and a few moments later there are strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her close.

"Babe, if _you_ can't knock any sense into her, no one can. You just gotta let it go."

Quinn tries to take a deep breath. "I can't."

Santana sighs. "The tighter you hold on to her, the more it's gonna hurt when she's gone."

Quinn pulls away from her, wipes the tears from her cheeks, and stares blankly through the windshield. "She's already gone," she whispers, her voice cracking on the last word. "The Rachel Berry I was talking about in there. She's already gone."


End file.
